


The Evils of High Grade

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:45:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> A prompt from pxjloverkyoto: Prowl/Jazz - Drunk Lap dance</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Evils of High Grade

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Pairing:** Prowl/Jazz  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Notes:** I have no excuse, and the title doesn’t fit really well at all, but it’s a line from Firefly that’s stuck in my head. Anyone know which one? Where are the true fans?

The common room was loud, colored lights dancing over the gyrating forms of most of the Autobots. It wasn’t often a party of this caliber was thrown, but as the ceasefire stretched out, the officers were forced to admit that their high-strung warriors were causing more trouble with their pent-up energy than a party and its aftermath would be.

Blaster was blissed out as he DJ’d, mixing with the skill and enthusiasm not seen since the Golden Age, the fact that it was human music not causing a single misstep.

Prowl took note of the couples, and in some cases threesomes, grinding close, but it was a flash of white armor, gliding with more rhythm than anyone else, and oddly solitary, through the crowd that caught his attention. Jazz dipped to the beat, twirling around, and side-stepping a pair of reaching hands.

Prowl shook his helm a little, and hid a small smile behind his cube of high grade. They were all rather drunk, Prowl himself was beginning to feel a slight tingling. He figured if he kept a full-looking cube in hand, then no one would demand he drink more.

Ironhide’s laugh broke over the pounding music, Prime’s booming out a moment later. It distracted Prowl from seeing as Jazz approached. He braced, excuses not to join the writhing mass on the dance floor cuing up in his processors.

Prowl wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or not that asking him to dance hadn’t been Jazz’s plan. He was still undecided as Jazz turned his back, hips rolling, and aft getting dangerously close to Prowl’s lap.

//What are you doing?// Prowl asked over a private comm channel, leaning back a bit in his chair to avoid touching Jazz.

//Ya looked lonely.// Jazz flashed a coy grin over his shoulder, swinging his hips sides to side to the beat, then grinding down _into_ Prowl’s thighs.

Heat from friction, yes, definitely from the friction, rushed up Prowl’s legs, and settled warmly, low in his belly.

Oh, he was doomed.

//I assure you, I was not lonely. I was actually enjoying watching everyone.//

Jazz stepped back and turned, one knee propping up beside Prowl’s leg. //Kinky! I like it!//

//That’s not… uh… what I meant,// Prowl insisted, optics caught on the positively obscene little circles Jazz’s pelvis sketched out over his interface panel.

Jazz leaned in, lips far too close to Prowl’s. “It’s what I meant,” he said, the words felt more than heard.

Prowl felt his spark trip in its casing. Well. Two could play this game. He reached up and grabbed Jazz’s helm, thumb stroking the short audial horns as he pulled him down into a kiss. Jazz moaned into his mouth.

It was a few moments before either of them noticed the music had stopped. Prowl turned his head, Jazz echoing the movement. Everyone was staring at them.

“Yes?” Prowl asked, using all his control to keep his voice steady through that one word.

“Not supposed ta touch the dancers,” Blaster said.

“May he touch me?”

Catcalls and whistles rung out from the crowd, and Prowl found himself with a lapful of tipsy, amorous Jazz. The cheering got louder as Jazz pulled Prowl’s face around for another kiss.

//How long have you been planning this?//

//Weeks. Ya mad?//

//No, but I believe we should retire to our quarters soon.//

//Aw… What happened ta kinky?//

Prowl slid his hands down Jazz’s sides as the music started back up. //We can be kinky in our own berth.// He clapped his hands down solidly on Jazz’s aft. //Yes?//

//Pit, yeah!//

The hoots, hollers, and applause as Prowl lifted Jazz over his shoulder and hauled him from the common room drowned out the music. Advice was shouted after them, but Prowl grinned as Jazz traced the bottom edge of a doorwing. He had plenty of his own ideas for the night.


End file.
